


Tastes Better When It's Stolen

by asimaiyat



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Worship, Casual Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, irresponsible use of time travel, mild background angst, potential consent issues, pre-lighting Barry, romantic smut, to be explained in AN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:51:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6760279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asimaiyat/pseuds/asimaiyat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Central City, 2013. This was such a bad idea, but on the other hand, it could turn out to be <i>such</i> a good idea. A fantasy that Barry had muttered, half-embarrassed but mostly shameless, against his neck in bed back in 2016. </p><p>Len borrows the Jumpship and stops by the recent past with a plan to absolutely rock the world of a Barry Allen who had yet to become the Flash. He didn't count on having nearly so many feelings about this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tastes Better When It's Stolen

**Author's Note:**

> Couple of content warnings: first of all, the "potentially dubious consent" tag is there because while 2016 Len and 2016 Barry have discussed this and are both fully on board, and 2013 Barry is enthusiastically on board with having sex with a hot older guy he's never met before, if you are triggered or otherwise bothered by situations where one person doesn't have all the relevant information going into a sexual encounter, this fic might not be for you.
> 
> There's also quite a bit of body-worship centered on skinny, pre-Flash Barry. While it absolutely isn't intended as "thinspiration" or idealizing one body type above any other, it could be a pretty rough read for people dealing with eating disorders, body dysphoria and/or any other body image condition.
> 
> Thanks so much to the wonderful thingamawhatsit-blog on tumblr for giving this a read-through and helping me corral my run-on sentences and make sure everyone got their clothes off in a timely fashion.

Central City, 2013.

This was such a bad idea, but on the other hand, it could turn out to be _such_ a good idea. A fantasy that Barry had murmured, half-embarrassed but mostly shameless, against his neck in bed back in 2016, that he'd found himself coming back to night after night -- _night before night_ , sometimes-- in his cold, chrome-walled bunk on the timeship. Leonard walked into Central City Jitters and looked around, spotting the tall, skinny grad student perched at a table in the back of the room, stacks of books and paper spread out around him as he buried his face in his laptop. Keeping an eye on the kid, he ordered a white chocolate mocha (unexpected perks of time travel: enjoying your favorite coffee drink that they stopped selling two years ago).

He walked up and pulled back the seat across from the younger man. "This seat taken?" he asked in a deeper voice than strictly necessary. It was as much fun as he’d imagined to see Barry’s reaction -- the quick glance up from his studies followed by the double take, big eyes momentarily getting wider.

“Oh, uh, no, go ahead,” he stammered, and Len didn’t miss the way those eyes traveled down from his face and back up again before quickly returning to the laptop screen. He leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee, counting down one, two, three minutes in his head while Barry’s slender hands danced over the laptop keyboard, watching the light flush spread from the tips of his cheekbones almost down to his throat.

“This place closes in twenty minutes,” Len said casually after a brief stretch of silence. “Think you’ll be done with your homework in time?”

“It’s not -- this is my Masters’ project. I won’t be done with it for months,” he replied with a light chuckle. This Barry didn’t look too different from the one he knew, the smile a little more awkward, the frame skinnier, but he got the feeling the kid was used to being mistaken for much younger.

“So what’s the hurry?” Len asked teasingly. “It’s a Friday night. There must be something to do that’s more fun than…” he glanced at one of the books stacked by Barry’s computer… “solid-state dynamics.”

“Oh, actually it’s pretty fun,” said Barry with an easy smile. “See, the problem I’m working on now is cool because all these variables --” he bit his full lower lip. Christ. “I mean, you probably don’t want to hear about it. Um. I’m Barry, by the way.” The blush on his face only deepened when Len smiled.

He actually liked listening to Barry talk about science -- even when the terminology was beyond him, that kind of bright-eyed enthusiasm struck him as something rare and precious that ought to be appreciated. But they had a limited window of time to work with here, so he didn’t argue.

“I’m Len,” he said instead, holding his gaze. “So I’m guessing you don’t have any plans after this.”

“Definitely not,” Barry said sheepishly. “Um… why? Do you?” From the way he was absently scratching the back of his neck, gazing at him from under his eyelashes, he clearly had some idea of what was going on, but needed to hear it spelled out for him just to be safe.

“Not yet,” Len drawled. He let his gaze trail down Barry’s long throat to the sharp point of his collarbone, just peeking out from his t-shirt collar. “I’m only in town for one night. I’d like to make it memorable.”

From the way Barry closed his laptop in a sudden, jerky movement, Len thought he might have pushed too far. But when he met Barry’s eyes, they were practically twinkling, that dare-you look that sometimes crossed his face when he thought what they were doing was particularly scandalous. He stood up abruptly and began packing his books in his messenger bag. “So, you have a hotel room?”

“A very nice one,” Len confirmed. It was pretty funny how fast Barry was moving right now, considering that he didn’t even have his super speed yet. The disorganized pile of study materials on the table was rapidly disappearing. “I don’t have a car with me, though, so I hope you won’t mind riding on the back of my bike.”

Len wasn’t playing fair, he knew it, but the way Barry’s green eyes darkened at the suggestion rewarded him beautifully. “Yeah, of course, I mean, that would be great. But. Uh. Do you have an extra helmet?”

“You can take mine.” He wasn’t big on unnecessary risks in general, but risking any harm to this particular Barry Allen was out of the question.

He wasn’t complaining, although he did miss the helmet -- or the parka that he’d chosen to leave behind this time -- as a fine mist of rain fell over the city. Those long, thin arms wrapped tight around his waist as they climbed onto the bike. Barry had always enjoyed this, but it was rare for them to actually ride together, since he could get them anywhere they needed to go in seconds (and Len would go along for the ride with only mild complaining). This Barry was obviously enthusiastic and slightly nervous, warm body absolutely plastered to Len’s back as they rode toward the hotel.

“Wait… the Ambassador? For real?” Barry’s eyes were about half the size of his face. “Isn’t this place kind of… I mean… what do you do exactly?”

“I’m in acquisitions,” Len replied without hesitation, climbing off the bike and offering Barry a hand. “Not exactly thrilling, but it does pay well.” He watched Barry take off the helmet as he parked and locked the bike, his hair sticking up in several directions until he lifted one hand to smooth it with a bashful smile.

They'd just made it into the elevator, watched the doors slide silently closed, when Len couldn't help himself anymore. He stepped into Barry's space and got one hand between the points of his shoulder blades and the other in his hair, bringing their mouths together deliberately, but at dizzying speed, a controlled fall. Barry's hands grabbed at his jacket, pulling Len in impossibly closer as his lips parted in a little gasp.

It had never been like this in their original timeline, never this fast. Their relationship had thawed out over weeks and months until the idea of touching each other's bodies seemed possible, then appealing, then irresistible. Their first kiss -- according to Len's timeline --had been so brief and light that he'd half-believed he imagined it. But now, time folded softly over itself and he could meet Barry's instinctive trust in kind, letting himself be pulled in tight and kissed back fiercely until they were both breathless, until they heard the _ding_ of the elevator and separated in an instant, eyeing each other as Len led the way to the room.

"I don't usually do this," Barry said quietly in the empty hallway.

"Believe it or not, me neither," Len replied. Barry laughed faintly.

"So I'm a special case?"

"You have no idea."

He slid the keycard into the door and let them in. It really was a nice room, with a king-sized bed and a stellar view of downtown Central through the picture window. Barry just stood there, hands in his pockets, and Len moved in to kiss him again. His lips teased the tension out of Barry’s mouth and jaw, reaching out a hand to take his shoulder and ground him as that impossible neck arched and lengthened. Len just kept taking everything that was on offer, kissing and sucking every inch of pale skin until Barry pulled him in to breathe in his ear “ _we should get in bed, like now_ ” and Len didn't feel inclined to argue.

Barry shed his jacket and let it fall to the floor, toed off his shoes as he hurried toward the bed, but stayed otherwise clothed. Len followed his lead, leaving his boots neatly placed beside the small desk and his jacket draped over the back of a chair, and advanced on the bed, getting a good, long look at Barry sprawled out over it. His long limbs stretched across the whole mattress, eyes dancing. Toes, still in their socks, wiggling with restless energy. One arm propped up his head, on top of too many fluffy pillows. Time ticked by unacknowledged as Len just looked, before he snapped to his senses and climbed onto the bed after him. “How did I ever get this lucky?” he murmured as he crossed the bed, prowling on hands and knees, eyes locked on Barry’s.

Barry reached up to pull him in for another kiss, but Len evaded his grip, instead getting his hands on Barry’s soft flannel shirt and starting to undo the buttons, one by one. “Easy,” he whispered, “I’ve got to get my hands on you,” when Barry let out a frustrated little sound.

The flannel came off easily, but there was a t-shirt under it, and Barry laughed under his breath when Len’s eyes narrowed in impatience at the sight. He pulled himself up off the fluffy mattress enough to yank the t-shirt over his own head, further ruffling his thick hair and exposing what looked like miles of soft pink skin, dotted with freckles and moles. Len dropped down to crouch over him and get his hands and mouth on everything within reach. The bones stood out from Barry’s shoulders and chest, something achingly raw about them. Len’s mouth affixed itself to the point of one shoulder, scraping his teeth over the skin, drawing a shuddering breath from deep in Barry’s throat.

“Shit,” the boy beneath him breathed, voice shaky. “Yeah, I like that, you should definitely feel free to do that anywhere you --” he was cut off with a little whine as Len moved to the hollow of his throat. It was tempting to leave a mark, because he could now, could claim Barry and make it last for more than an hour or two, but it didn’t feel right. He’d be gone in the morning, and he didn’t want to leave any more damage than he had to. Even if the way Barry’s neck was arching up against his mouth made it clear that it would be more than welcome.

“Come on, man, you’ve still got all your clothes on,” Barry said, managing a slightly uneven smile that lit up his flushed face. “Not fair.”

“So demanding,” Len teased, returning his smile, but he shrugged off his sweater, leaving a charcoal-colored t-shirt on. With his Barry, he’d eventually gotten comfortable enough to strip all the way down, but he didn’t want to have the whole conversation this time. He leaned down to kiss Barry again, softly, sucking lightly on his lower lip.

“What do you want, beautiful?” he asked, their faces inches apart.

“Come on, touch me, stop teasing,” Barry insisted, the look in his eyes too fiery to count as begging.

“I’m not teasing. I’m enjoying you,” Len replied, reaching down to undo Barry’s jeans and begin to slide them down over his narrow hips, taking his boxers along for the ride. He didn't normally have such an oral fixation, but something about the way Barry looked right now was so damn /edible/, It just felt right to nuzzle his face right into the crease of his thigh, licking and teasing and letting his stubble rub against the sensitive skin until Barry's hands were grasping at the back of his head, trying to find something to hold onto to pull him back. Len looked up with a smirk. "What?"

"You _are_ teasing!" Barry protested.

"Can't resist," he admitted, dropping another kiss to the hollow under his hip bone. "I'll play nice in a second; let me have this."

"This is what you want?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed adorably. "You picked me up and brought me back here just to... kiss all over me?"

"That wasn't exactly the plan," Len admitted, fingers running down the fine trail of hair from Barry's navel down to his groin. There was a little softness there, the one place on his body that wasn't skin and bone, unbearably sweet. The plan had definitely been more along the lines of filthy semi-anonymous sex. He hadn’t anticipated what it would feel like, seeing Barry like this, raw and unguarded, a version of him who’d never seen Len as an enemy, never known any real enemies. "Your patience will be rewarded, I promise."

"Mmm... okay." Barry smiled lazily, spreading his legs a little wider, hips tilting to arch his back a little more. Somehow even when he was being deliberately seductive he could seem so genuine, innocent even.

"And here you go," Len said almost under his breath, right before he licked his lips and slid his mouth down over that slender, flushed cock, letting the head pop past his lips as he took it deep on the first stroke. The sound Barry made should have been illegal, a moan swallowed in a helpless gasp. Len smiled around it as much as he could as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, mouth watering, pushing himself further than he usually would. Barry's skin tasted clean and warm, his body splayed out and open, not thrusting into Len's mouth or pushing him down with the hand that rested gently along the back of his head. He went slowly, pulling up inch by inch like every one cost him, before sinking back down again with a low groan. One hand snuck back to stroke Barry's balls and roll them around delicately, feeling how hot and eager he was. As Barry lost himself in the blowjob, whimpering and cursing breathlessly, Len took those fingers and slowly led them back, exerting pressure just behind his balls while Len sucked as hard as he could, doing his best to memorize the sound of the hoarse yell Barry let out, for all the lonely nights ahead of him that he should know better than to think about right now.

He pulled off slowly, knowing how wrecked he himself must look with reddened eyes and swollen lips, a little drool leaking down his chin before he could wipe it off with the back of his hand. But Barry looked just as bad, in a wonderful way. He kept up the teasing with his fingers, letting his own drool slick the way as he slipped them back, not trying to penetrate yet, just lightly stroking down his crack and tracing around his hole.

"Oh hell yeah," Barry murmured, making Len shake his head in amusement. "Yeah, if you want to, I mean have you got...?"

"Yeah, I came prepared," Len answered him, unable to resist one more gentle kiss to Barry's thigh.

Len had left the bottle of lube in the nightstand next to the Gideon bible, and he could have just reached for it, but standing up gave him a few seconds to clear his head -- _yeah, right_ \-- and the freedom of movement to quickly strip off his black pants and boxers, quietly gratified by the look on Barry's face as he stared openly. 

When he climbed back onto the bed, the kid reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him in for a dirty, enthusiastic kiss, the necessary diversion to flip them over so those sparkling eyes could look down on him with amused wonder.

"You're so hot," Barry marveled, running his fingers over the thin cotton covering Len's chest. "I mean this doesn't -- guys like you don't --"

"They should," Len replied firmly but still warmly. "Have you done this before?"

"Yeah," Barry admitted. "But not for a long time. Since undergrad."

"So you weren't just experimenting in the science lab, then."

Barry's laugh was short and surprised. "Uh, not exactly."

Len had to do a little maneuvering to get the bottle open with Barry still perched on top of him, the heat of his body more than a little distracting, but he managed. "You know the drill, then. Just relax."

Rolling his eyes just a millimeter, Barry nodded. As Len reached down with his slick fingers to go back to teasing behind his balls, those slim hips arched into the touch, head tipping back just so. It would have been easier to do this from on top but this view was too good to give up. He began to trace the tight rim of Barry's entrance, gradually building pressure, feeling the hands on his shoulders flexing and relaxing in turn.

"You've got such a cute little ass," he murmured, shamelessly feeling him up. "Let me guess, biking? Running?"

"Used to do -- _ah!_ \-- track and field," Barry managed to reply, as Len slipped one finger inside. "I'm not much of an athlete, though." It sounded like he was fighting to keep his voice level, the breezy smile slipping from his face with each careful stroke. Len catalogued the differences between this Barry and the one he knew, in the way his muscles tensed, the heat inside him. Not comparing, just taking note.

"Mm, I don't know about that," Len teased, working another finger in. "I bet there's a lot this body can do that you haven't figured out yet."

Barry laughed and moaned at the same time, somehow. It was a sound that could fix a broken heart. "God, you dork. Okay, you want to find out?” He squirmed on top of Len, fighting the grip on his hips to push the two of them closer together, bringing their groins into hot contact. Len heard himself gasp as Barry rocked his hips against him, that look of playful challenge on his face. He pushed his fingers back in, harder now, making Barry arch and freeze for a moment, every line of his body sharp and desperate.

After that it was easy to slip a third finger in, while Barry pushed back against his hand, narrow hips twitching against his own. Barry was panting hard, murmuring under his breath a steady stream of demands and encouragements, “come on —give it to me — I’m ready — can you just —“

Len held up a hand, that and a warning look telling him to stay put for a second as his fingers slipped out and he rolled on the condom in a quick, practiced motion. Barry was on him the instant he was ready, one hand wrapped around the base of Len’s cock, the other tense on the mattress steadying himself before he bit his own lip and slid down, much faster than Len would have personally recommended. It was a little rough but so hot, going from good to perfect as Barry found the right angle for his hips. His face was transformed as he took it, eyelashes fluttering, mouth dropping open. Len grabbed his hips and held on with all he had.

“Goddamn, you feel so good,” he said, his voice coming out as a rough growl. Barry was rising and falling on top of him, without all the strength and speed of the Flash, just his own need and passion driving him. The sight of stringy muscles standing out on those skinny arms undid him where everything else had failed, Barry’s strength driving and holding them together, like it had for so long now. He missed the lightning flashing in those eyes, but the spark was already there, shining under heavy lashes.

Before he could lose himself further, Len moved his hands from Barry’s hips up to his lean biceps, using his firm grip and a little momentum to flip them back over. Barry cried out, grinning as he caught his breath.

“Yes, please, _Len_ ,” he sighed.

“Oh, is this what you wanted?” Len teased, sinking in slow and deep, loving how eager Barry felt beneath him, squirming and rocking his hips. His whole body was flushed, a warm pink wash down his jaw and neck melting into blotchy patches of faded red across his chest and down the soft hollow of his belly, interrupted by the sharp lines of his bones. A perfect mess. Len squeezed his arms for a minute longer before giving in to mercy and wrapping his right hand around Barry’s long, slender cock, the heat of it shocking against his sensitive skin. Barry made a sound that spanned several octaves, and Len twisted his wrist and made him do it again.

Once he was really trying, it was wonderful how quickly Barry fell to pieces, all long lines twisting together and half-coherent cries. Barry’s hands curled around Len’s hips, barely exerting any pressure, just his fingertips flexing and relaxing against bare skin, the gesture shouting louder than words. Begging for more.

Len gave it to him, as if he could deny Barry anything right now, pushing into him harder, his hand working tight and fast around Barry’s cock. He heard himself groan at just how good Barry felt like this, taking it like he needed it, hips twisting and bucking against his own.

“Oh yeah, come on just like that, fuck --” Barry’s voice was raw and honest, trailing off and picking up again in mid-sentence.

“Shh.” Len stroked the side of Barry’s face with his free hand and stilled his other hand at the base of Barry’s cock, wringing another whimper out of him. “I said relax, kid. I’ve got you.” Barry’s eyes fluttered open, indignant, but as Len’s fingers trailed from his jaw down the side of his neck, his hips rocking into him slow and deep, he took one long, shaky breath and Len felt some of the tension melt away, curses and demands giving way to soft little sighs and moans. 

Len sat up by a few degrees, changing the angle, and switched hands, so that his left hand was wrapped around Barry’s shaft and his fingers of his right hand rubbing at the rim of Barry's hole, stroking firmly at the stretched skin where they were joined as he slowly sunk in and pulled out. Barry groaned like he was dying but he kept pressing back against Len's hips, back arching off the mattress. Len felt a grin spreading across his face at the sight, and kept exploring. When he found a spot right between his hole and his balls and pressed down with two fingertips, rubbing in a tiny circle, the way Barry wriggled and clenched was almost too good, and he had to take a few seconds, eyes closed, to keep from letting things end right then and there. 

It wouldn't be long, though; he practically had tunnel vision, driving deep into Barry and teasing him with his fingers as Barry's moans got higher and more urgent again, somewhere between pleading and demanding in a way that evidently hadn't changed much over two years. When he could tell from the pitch of his voice that Barry was close, he leaned down and took that sharp, elegant jawline in his right hand and kissed him deeply, letting him cry out into Len's mouth as he came, feeling those skinny arms wrapped desperately around his shoulders, pulling him down closer. With their bodies pressed against each other, Barry pulling himself up against him to get as much contact as possible through Len’s t-shirt, it only took another minute for Len to come, eyes closed, overwhelmed by the heat of Barry's skin against his. That seemed to make Barry just hold him tighter. For maybe two minutes that was all he was aware of, the two of them holding each other like they couldn't afford to let anything come between them.

He knew it couldn't last, even if the heat and mess weren't starting to get to him. When his senses came back to him he gently disengaged, tying off the condom and smiling wryly at Barry's blissed-out face, tossed back on the pillow, his hair an endearing disaster. Len got up to throw away the condom and run a washcloth under warm water before bringing it back to the bed.

When he came back to bed Barry had sat up a little, face propped up on one hand, a dazed smile on his face, evidently unselfconscious about what a mess he was. Len shook his head. "Debauched is a good look on you."

"You, too," Barry replied cheerfully, although Len had never even taken off his t-shirt, and barely had enough hair to mess up. He didn't argue, though, just pushed Barry back down to the mattress to wipe the sticky mess off his stomach before stripping off his own dirty shirt and pulling the boy into his arms again. With a tiny sound of protest at being manhandled, Barry made himself comfortable, resting his head on Len's chest and draping one arm around his waist. Len could feel his warm breath, his heartbeat slowly settling down to normal. It should have been comforting, but instead it was suddenly jarring how different this felt, just sharing space with Barry without the constant racing of his heart, the slight static tingle of his sweaty skin. It made Len feel all too aware of how long it might be before he could see _his_ Barry again, of everything he’d have to explain to him if -- when they were reunited. He pulled away by a few inches, pillowing his head on his interlocked hands.

“I shouldn’t stay,” Barry said after a moment’s hesitation. “I mean, this is nice, but I have an early class and I’m, uh, not really a morning person.”

Len nodded. “Of course. I’ll call you a cab.” He pulled himself up and got to his feet to find his phone in his pants pocket, grateful that he hadn’t upgraded for a couple of years. Barry would definitely be able to spot near-future technology even in his current dreamy state. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“You just conclusively proved that, yeah,” said Barry to the ceiling. “I mean. That there are a _lot_ of things you can do for me. But at the moment, nah, I’m good.”

Len rolled his eyes as he pulled up the number for Central City Cabs and waited for it to connect. He watched Barry out of the corner of his eye, sprawling across the middle of the bed for a minute before slowly pulling up his long limbs and climbing off, finding his clothes and sluggishly pulling them back on. If not for his hair, you wouldn’t be able to tell what he’d just been doing. After Len called the cab, he faced Barry and ran his fingers through his hair, straightening it until it looked like it had when they met in the coffee shop. Perfect.

“Hey, uh, I know this was a one-time thing,” the boy said, eyes flickering to the corner of the room shyly. “But I mean just in case, you think I could have your number?”

Len’s hand roamed down from his hair to lightly squeeze the back of his neck. “I wish it could be different, kiddo, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t get many opportunities to travel out of Coast City, and you should have someone who can be there when you need them.”

Barry’s nostrils flared. “Like I’m going to have anyone anyway.”

“You’ll have plenty,” Len chided him, letting go of his neck. “Trust me.”

Barry sighed, but seemed to resign himself, checking around the room one more time to make sure he had his jacket, phone and wallet. He’d turned back to Len, whole body leaning toward him like a sunflower stalk, when Len’s phone rang, the cab driver saying he was downstairs. As soon as he hung up Barry was on him, kissing him fiercely. 

He pulled back a little, arms still around Len’s shoulders, and there was a moment that lasted longer than it should have when Len didn’t know what to say. Of course he knew the risks to the timeline, beyond what he’d already done, but knowing didn’t take away the aching impulse to say _be careful who you trust_ or _please never hate me_ or _stay out of lightning storms_. He swallowed like something was stuck in his throat.

Finally, after they must have made the cab wait an hour, he found it in him to quirk up the corner of his lip just a bit and say “Hey, kid. Keep the faith.”

Barry smiled like he’d said something funny. “Thanks. I mean it.” Moving fast, he gave Len another kiss, right on the corner of his mouth that was smiling, and then he was off, the door closing heavy behind him.

Len stared at the door for a while. The jumpship was cloaked just outside of town, and he probably shouldn’t have left it, but this wasn’t the kind of hotel where you could pay by the hour, so he might as well stay the night. And maybe the scent that filled the air wasn’t the faintly electrical smell of the air right after a thunderstorm, the way he’d gotten used to, but it was close enough for now. He went to sleep focusing on all the spots where Barry’s lips and fingers had touched his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who are worried about the timeline, see if this helps:
> 
> After a week or so of mooning around and telling no one but Iris about his mysterious paramour, Barry moves on with his life, becomes the Flash etc all on schedule. When he first finds out about Leonard Snart's real identity, of course he's super pissed and embarrassed about the whole thing. He goes to the meeting in the woods reluctantly, blushing a little when he takes off his mask like "well I guess now you know I'm that guy you slept with..." and Len's like what? no... I would definitely remember that. So at first it's really awkward because Barry thinks Len somehow forgot their night together (Len thinks it must have just been some guy who looked like him), but at this point it's already out there between them that they're attracted to each other, so they end up getting together sooner than they did in the original timeline, even though they occasionally argue about what really happened that night. Then Rip Hunter shows up and recruits Len and Mick for his mission. Barry and Len are in the middle of an emotional night together on the eve of the Waverider's departure when Barry, the one who has time-traveled before, suddenly figures it out. "Len," he says, "this is going to sound crazy, but I think there's something you have to do." Len frowns at him for a second before he gets it too and just grins and shakes his head because STABLE TIME LOOP BITCHES 
> 
> (sorry i said bitches I just got excited) (for more Flash, Legends and especially Leonard Snart ramblings follow me at reversetrash.tumblr.com)


End file.
